Going Under
by Shi-Toyu
Summary: Loki hates the beach. He also hates Thor and his friends. Winding up on the beach surrounded by his least favorite people in the world pretty much guarantees that he's going to have a miserable day...until an unexpected lifeguard saves his life. FrostIron if you want it to be. AU 2 parts
1. Chapter 1

Going Under

Loki hated the beach. He always had. The sun was always too hot, burning his pale skin and blinding him in the process. Not to mention it made him sweat more than he would like, as if the sunscreen didn't make him feel disgusting enough. Every inch of his body was sticky and gross within minutes of stepping out under the fiery ball that was the object of Loki's scorn.

And then there was the sand, nasty gritty filth. He could admire it just fine from a distance where it couldn't work its way into nooks and crannies of his body that he didn't even know _existed._ The salt water only made the whole thing worse. Did no one understand the amount of bacteria that filled the ocean?

His hatred for beaches and all they entailed was rivalled only by his hatred for Thor and his friends. His brother's companions were loud and brash, quick to anger and slow of wit. It rankled Loki to no end to know that he was actually _related_ to their oafish leader, even if it was not by blood. The only one whose company he could even begin to stand was Hogan, who stayed silent enough to be considered stoic at the best of times. It was just a pity that his silence was due to his tendency to follow along with the ideas of others. Volstagg, though certainly the brightest of the bunch, was still far too annoying with his cheerfulness and insatiable hunger.

Finding himself on a beach, surrounded by Thor and his friends, Loki knew right off the bat that his day was unlikely to be anything but absolutely miserable. He had hoped to spend his summer indoors, perhaps curled up with a book or entertaining one of his other interests. Curse Odin for demanding that he be _sociable_ and his mother's unending concern for his lack of a friend group. Loki didn't _need_ friends, nor did he want them. If he did, he would be more than capable of finding them on his own without having to rely on his older 'brother' to share.

"Come now, brother! Surely even you must admit this is a wonderful day!"

Thor was laughing on the towel beside him, every bit as boisterous as if he had just won the greatest of victories. Loki glared at him darkly and silently damned whatever power it was that gave Thor the ability to be eternally enthusiastic about _everything_. When he was younger, Loki had occasionally dreamt that Thor was secretly a demon that drained the happiness from Loki's own life and used it to survive.

"Not all of us are so easily amused as you. Those of us with higher brain functions, for example."

His comments only served to make Thor laugh harder. It seemed that the blonde never had figured out that Loki actually _meant_ the insults he threw in Thor's direction. Judging by the glare Loki was getting from Frandal, though, Thor's friends were not quite so fooled. Well, that suited Loki just fine. He wasn't interested in getting on their good sides, anyway. Curse the lot of them.

"What's so funny, then?"

Loki's scowl only deepened at Sif's return to their group. She had decided to go for a quick swim just minutes before 'to cool off' and Loki couldn't help but hope she drowned. She'd been all but throwing herself at Thor for years now. What on Earth made her think that anything was going to change just because she came back dripping wet and smelling like fish? Loki wrinkled his nose at the mere sight of her.

The day dragged on with agonizing slowness. Loki kept praying to any deity willing to listen that Thor and his friends would grow bored soon and want to leave. After only the first hour Loki would have given anything to just go home and take a shower. He was glad at least for his foresight in bringing a book with him. Or he was until Frandal plucked it right out of his hands.

"Fox's Book of Martyrs? What the Hell kind of story is that?"

Loki practically growled and tried to snatch the book back, only for Frandal to dangle it further out of his reach. Loki _hated_ to be interrupted while reading.

"It's not a story, you idiot! It's a collection of accounts regarding the tortures and punishments used on ancient Protestants!"

He'd read it at least six times already, but it never failed to speak to him. The individuals the book talked about had known suffering like nothing else, had been so intimately acquainted with it that it _became_ them. Yet they had never given up their beliefs. He couldn't help but marvel at and admire their strength. He couldn't imagine what would happen to his own beliefs if he were to go through something similar.

Frandal threw the book to Hogun, laughing as he did so. Loki wanted nothing more than to slug him in his smug mouth. His fists clenched at his sides with the effort to restrain himself. Striking out would only encourage them _and_ get him in trouble at home when they got back. Though it might get him out of having to come back to the beach again, Odin was smart enough to add on something else that Loki actually felt was a punishment.

"Torture? You _would_ read something like that, wouldn't you? You've always been an odd one."

The whole group laughed, even Thor. Loki knew better than to expect his adoptive brother to rise to his defense, but that did not lessen the sting of his amusement. Was he truly so blind that he could not see what his friends were doing?

Hogun flipped the book open and perused one of the pages, his expression wrinkling in disgust. It only served to spur the others to laugh harder. Sif took the book next, flicking through it before looking at Loki with a cruel smirk.

"This is some pretty sick stuff. What are you doing reading this on a _beach_?"

Loki wanted to say that he was using it to escape from _them_. He was so focused on Sif that he jumped with surprise when Frandal threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling Loki into the older male's side.

"Come on, Loki! You're supposed to be having fun, not poking around in some dusty, old book. Relax, enjoy the sun, maybe play around in the water a bit!"

Loki saw the look in Sif's eyes the moment the idea came to her and he immediately felt dread pool in the pit of his stomach. He shrank back even before the words were out of her mouth, but Frandal's grip was firm and he couldn't squirm away.

"Why, Frandal, I think that's a great idea! Why don't we help dear Loki with that? I'm sure he'd enjoy a little dip once he actually got in the water!"

"No! No, stop! Put me down!"

But it was already too late. Volstagg and Hogun had jumped forward to grab his flailing limbs and wrestle him across the beach towards the water. Thor stayed exactly where he was, seated on his towel, and Loki felt a flash of all-consuming rage at his lack of action. Some brother he proved to be.

Loki's shouts and struggles were starting to draw attention from the beach-goers around them, but no one came to his aid. He didn't expect them to, not when his own kin would abandon him. Loki had gone his entire life without anyone's help. Why would now be any different? He could hear as some of them even laughed at the group storming down the beach.

The Idiots Three finally managed to get Loki fully off the ground just as they entered the water and used their combined strength to hurl him further out to sea. Loki hit the waves with a painful 'smack' and managed to squeeze his eyes and mouth shut just in time to block the water out. As he regained his footing and surged to his feet, Loki shook with absolute _rage_. He didn't care what kind of trouble he would get into later, he was going to _kill_ those three. And Sif and Thor for good measure. Maybe everyone on the beach if he could manage it.

"_You insolent, vile worms! I will wring your ne-_"

Loki's threats were cut short, however, as a tall wave crashed over him. Unprepared for the blow, he stumbled forward, slipping on the ocean floor and sending him down once again. Another wave hit before he could get his footing back and he felt the tide tugging him further out into the depths. Fear replaced the anger that had gripped his heart.

He fought back against the current, shouting for help as soon as his head broke the water's surface. Loki wasn't a bad swimmer, but he couldn't seem to get his head straight or his limbs to coordinate. They flailed wildly, desperately trying to keep his mouth and nose in the air.

"_THOR!_"

The part of him that would always be a little brother, would always be hurt by Thor's laughter, still believed that the older man would save him somehow. The logical part of him, though, knew that it was probably already too late. The water was just dragging him farther down into its depths.

His head disappeared under the surface of the water yet again and Loki's inner panic ratcheted up another notch. His lungs already burned with the need for air and his limbs felt heavy, weighed down by the strength of the sea. Salt water stung his eyes viciously when he made the mistake of briefly opening them and he quickly squeezed them shut once again. He'd caught a glimpse of the sun filtering through the water's surface, though, and he tried to aim himself towards it. He just needed to get back to the surface and help would come. He was sure of it.

Poseidon didn't seem keen on releasing Loki from his clutches quite yet, though. The rip tide pulled at Loki's body like a lover unwilling to part ways. The man's back collided with something on the ocean floor, maybe a rock, and the air was forced from his lungs as he gasped. Water rushed in to replace it and Loki was suddenly choking, experiencing a whole new level of drowning.

He could feel his head growing light as the lack of oxygen began to affect him. Didn't he know some statistics about that? Something about permanent brain damage beginning within fifty seconds of deprivation? Loki supposed he wouldn't have to worry about that. He was going to die here, after all.

Something wrapped around his wrist, more solid that the current or the waves. It pulled at him, dragging him off somewhere. Loki had the sudden mental image of a ghostly pirate ship hauling him away to become part of its crew. He'd always wanted to be a pirate when he was a child. Maybe death wouldn't be so bad after all.

He felt the moment his head breeched the surface of the water, but he still couldn't seem to breathe. It was like there was something inside him, filling his lungs and preventing anything else from entering. The sun was blinding even through his eyelids but it doesn't stop the blackness that was creeping up on him. As Loki was hauled over something solid, maybe a board, a plank fallen from the pirate ship(?), he heard a gasping voice close to his ear.

"Stay with me, man."

Loki wanted to. He wanted to stay with the voice. It sounded strong, even though he could hear worry in it, too. Why would the voice be worried? Did voices even feel emotions? The darkness was getting more complete. He couldn't concentrate.

His back burned as it came in contact with the sand and Loki could hear the chattering of a crowd as though from a great distance. There were hands on him, moving him and tilting his head back. He wanted to help them, but couldn't seem to make himself move. Were they friends with the voice? Where had the voice gone? How could it ask Loki to stay and then leave him?

"THAT'S MY BABY BROTHER!"

Ah, Thor. Good. It was good that Thor was there. Right? Why wouldn't it be good? Oh, that was right. He was mad at Thor. Thor had done something stupid again…What had he done?

Something was pushing on his chest, pressing down with enough force that his ribs protested the movement. He wanted it to stop. It _hurt_. But the movements kept up. They would pause every once in a while for something warm to be pressed against Loki's lips, but then they would start right back up again. At least the voice was back, he realized belatedly.

"Come on, come on!"

There was a lull, in Loki's mind, as the pressure and words continued. He was drifting, the pain in his chest feeling more and more distant, the darkness feeling closer. He idly marveled that this was the first time he had spent so much time in the sun where he just felt pleasantly warm. A new voice spoke, but he couldn't make out the words then the first voice was shouting.

"NO!"

There was so much anguish in the single, short word, that it jarred Loki's brain back into some vague form of activity. What was wrong with this voice? Why was it so upset? He didn't want the voice to be upset. A third voice spoke up to answer his questions.

"Tony, he's dead."

It was said sympathetically, but the words confused Loki. The voice was dead? No, that didn't seem right. The third voice has been talking _to_ the first one, not about it. So then who was dead? Loki needed to wake up. He needed to find out what was going on, fix it.

The pressure was back and this time, combined with Loki's struggles, the liquid that had been in his lungs forced its way up his throat and into his mouth. He coughed harshly, more water coming up and making him choke just as much on the way out as it did on the way in. Someone rolled him onto his side as his entire body wracked with the force of his vomiting convulsions.

He distantly registered Thor crying out for him, but he couldn't bring himself to care much. His entire body ached and he gulped down the sweet air like a dying man which, he realized, was exactly what he was. He was shaking and covered in sweat as he rolled back over to lay on his back. His eyes cracked open slowly to squint into the blaring sun.

Someone was leaning over him, brown hair surrounding an attractive male face. The sun behind him made him appear haloed in light and his honey-colored eyes glittered with concern. Loki felt himself frown up at the man. He reached forward with one hand to brush some of Loki's sopping wet hair out of his face.

"You're okay."

It was the voice. _He_ was the voice.

"W-who are y-you?"

The man smiled.

"Tony. I'm Tony. Who are you?"

He opened his mouth to respond only for another round of coughing to overtake him. It took him a few moments for him to get his body back under control.

"L-Loki."

Tony continued to stare at him for a bit before the smile worked its way back onto his face.

"You're gonna be fine, Loki. Just take it easy for a while."

Tony moved to stand and panic shot through Loki. His hand shot out to grab the man by the wrist. With his mind finally starting to get back of track, Loki was realizing that this man had saved his _life_.

"Thank you."

Tony took his hand and squeezed it gently as Thor moved to cradle Loki's form.

"You're welcome."

Loki attributed it to his recent oxygen deprivation and the possibility of brain damage that he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Will I see you again?"

Tony's smile was absolutely blinding.

"I'll be here all summer."

Relieved more than he had any right to be, Loki relaxed fully into his adoptive brother's arms. There would be time to cause Thor Hell later, for now he would just enjoy the comfort and security his hold offered. When Tony did not immediately let go of his hand and leave Loki allowed himself to consider that maybe, just maybe, beaches weren't so bad after all.

A/N: I hope you all have enjoyed this! It is based on 'Lifeguard Duty' by Lokis_Tony over on AO3. PLEASE check it out! Without that fic, this would have never have happened. So, if you liked it, give credit where it is due. Thank you all so much!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Loki waited until they were all gathered around the dinner table to pop his question. He'd only been home from the hospital for a couple days and he knew the combination of sympathy and the presence of supporters would tip Odin's hand in Loki's favor. Odin's adopted son was nothing if not equally manipulative as the man who raised him.

"I was hoping to thank the lifeguard who rescued me. You'll get me his number, right?"

"Oh, sweetheart!" Frigga had exclaimed. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea! You're always so thoughtful!"

In the face of his wife's disapproval, what else could Odin do but agree? Loki had Tony's number in his hand less than three days later. Still, it took him another three weeks to get up the courage to actually call the handsome lifeguard. What if he'd only been so kind because Loki had nearly drowned? Loki didn't often doubt himself, but Tony seemed to make him do just that.

The lifeguard sounded surprised when he answered his phone to find Loki on the other end, but had quickly warmed up. Loki had felt a thrill run through his veins when Tony agreed to dinner, even if it wasn't a date. Loki had picked the restaurant, the time, and the date, but Tony didn't seem to have any problem with that. It was kind of refreshing not to have anyone questioning his choices.

It was exactly 8 o'clock on the night of their meeting that Loki stalked through the door of the restaurant he'd chosen, scowling viciously. Thor, the over-bearing bastard, had followed him all the way from their house. He'd been treating Loki like he was made of glass ever since the incident at the beach. While it was often useful in getting Loki what he wanted, it was more often just irritating to deal with.

"It's just dinner," he growled as he shoved his brother back out the door, "I don't need a bodyguard!"

Hiding his ruffled feathers with the ease of years of experience, Loki breezed around the stunned hostess and scanned the restaurant. The last thing he needed after dealing with Thor was to give the hostess the name 'Odinson'. He swore he'd be changing his name the second he turned eighteen.

Emerald eyes met honey-colored ones and a smile broke out on Loki's face at the sight of Tony waiting for him. Part of him had worried the lifeguard would change his mind and not show up. The other teenager pushed himself up from his seat as Loki approached.

"Hey, Loki. It's good to see you again!" and he smiled brightly like it really was good to see him. Still the show of chivalry called forth a quirked eyebrow and a small smirk for Loki.

"Hello, Tony. It's nice to see you as well."

He looked stunning in his suit, more at home in the fancy dress than most people twice his age. Loki tucked that fact away absently, assuming Tony must have had occasion to wear them as he grew up. Loki gave a small nod of approval. Hopefully this would mean the other's manners weren't horribly atrocious. That would be such a disappointment.

"Er…Why don't we sit down and order something?"

"Sure," Loki immediately agreed, suddenly realizing that he had let himself drift off in thought. How embarrassing. Tony seemed to handle it well, though, and waited politely for Loki to sit before sitting himself. More silence stretched between them as they perused the menus.

For all he had obsessed over this moment, Loki could not find a single thing to say. They exchanged a few awkward smiles back and forth while otherwise avoiding each other's gaze. After a short while, Tony began doing some kind of finger snap and clapping motion with his hands in a way that was clearly habitual. Loki couldn't help the amused smile that tugged at his lips.

"Nervous are we?"

"Huh?"

Definitely a habit, then, if Tony didn't even realize when he was doing it.

"My mother does that when she's nervous and doesn't have anything handy to crochet with."

Loki wanted to slide under the table and die. Great. That was exactly what he needed to do to make a good impression, talk about his mother. Thankfully, Tony just laughed a bit and rolled with it.

"Oh. Yeah…I guess you could say I'm nervous."

Loki knew that tone, realized in that instant that he had nothing to worry about. Tony was just as interested as he was. He sent the other teen a knowing smile before snagging a waiter's attention and ordering a sparkling cider. Tony already had a glass of water sitting in front of him.

"Fancy," Tony commented as soon as the waiter left.

His tone, even though it was teasing, managed to break through every bit of confidence Loki had just found. Feeling like a child, he tucked a piece of his shoulder-length hair behind one ear. His face felt like it was on fire and he knew he had to be blushing. With skin as pale as Loki's, it was impossible to hide any bit of red.

"I like the color of the cider," he tried to explain. "The golden hue of it comforts me. I know it's childish, but when I drink it I feel a sort of…security, if you will. Like a part of me knows that no matter how hard or how wrong things may go, they will eventually be replaced by something…or someone…who will make things better."

As he speaks the last part, he can only bring himself to look at Tony through his lashes. He was putting some serious effort into trying to hide himself behind thin air. Tony, though, only tilted his head to the side and sent Loki a gentle smile.

"That doesn't sound childish to me," he said, by some miracle, and making Loki blush even redder. "So what happened after you left the beach that day?"

"I went to the hospital," Loki supplied helpfully, glad for the change in subject. "Mostly because my mother freaked out and wanted to make sure nothing was wrong and that I was fine."

It wasn't a lie, really. Loki just chose to leave out the part where he had to stay for several days and be treated for the salt that had gotten in his lungs so he wouldn't dry drown, as the doctors had called it.

"Is that why you never came to the beach again?"

"Partly. I just really don't like the beach. It's so…hot and it makes me sweat a disgusting amount and the sand is so filthy and gritty and irritating with the way it gets in places it shouldn't be and just…No. I don't like beaches."

"That's understandable," Tony chuckled. "But it's kinda boring sitting there with no one to save."

Loki's entire body instantly tensed. He hated being thought of as a victim.

"I don't need saving."

"I wasn't talking about you."

His words were spoken softly, but Loki could only look away. His throat felt suddenly dry and he swallowed to try and ease the discomfort.

"So was there anything wrong?" Tony asked in a clear attempt to bring back their previous rapport.

"Thankfully no." At least nothing that had caused lasting damage. "My oaf of a brother, though, had hell to deal with from my parents and myself."

Loki spoke softly, but a tiny smirk crept onto his face despite his downward turn in mood. The smirk seemed to put Tony more at ease. His voice was full of relief when he said, "That's good to hear."

That relief was what pulled Loki's eyes back to stare at Tony, but now the lifeguard was looking away in what might have been embarrassment.

"Yes," Loki heard himself saying, "I thought so, too."

The waiter stopped at just that moment to deliver Loki's sparkling cider and it was suddenly time to order. By the time their orders were placed, the heavy atmosphere that had fallen over the table was gone and Loki decided he'd forgive Tony his slip up about the saving. To be fair, he _was_ the man who'd saved Loki's life.

As soon as the waiter walked away, Loki put his elbows on the table and cradled his chin on top of his interlocked fingers. He leaned forward, giving Tony an assessing look.

"So, Tony Stark…Tell me about yourself."

He may not have recognized the young man at the beach, but Odin's little search for the lifeguard's number had turned up his identity. Loki had never been much one into gossip, but he at least knew the basics. Really, he'd prefer to hear the details of Tony's life from Tony himself, anyway.

"What is there to tell that the press hasn't put in the front pages already?" Tony asked. 'I'm an orphan, or at least I was considered one until a few months ago when I turned eighteen. My dad left me too much money and a company I don't want. People doubt that I'll be able to carry on my father's legacy. I got a job this summer as a lifeguard along with my asshole friend Clint…"

Eighteen, Loki thought. It was nice that Tony was older than him, even if it was only by a year. He liked that. As for the rest of the information…he'd have to file it away for later consideration. Thank You dinners were hardly the time to break out the heavy stuff.

"While that's all very interesting," he began as a way to divert attention, "I want to know more about the things that make you furious. What interests do you have? What's your favorite food? How many testicles do you have?" He couldn't help but laugh at that last one. "You know, the good stuff!"

Tony joined in with his laughter easily.

"How many testicles do I have? How many do you have?"

"It's a legitimate question!" But Loki's insistence was slightly ruined by his giggling. "I once met a man on an adventure my brother forced me to go on with him that had four testicles."

And as Loki launched into his tale and Tony listened with actual interest instead of out of some obligation, he couldn't help but feel like Tony had saved him in more than one way that day at the beach.


End file.
